Pandora's Box
by Ukkie
Summary: This story is SR related. Starsky will soon return as a cop and Hutch owns a box with memories.


_For my dear friends Janet and Hilly._

_Thank you Janet for giving me your idea to play with and for encouraging me to keep on writing._

_Thank you Hilly for betaing and encouraging me to keep on writing._

_They still aren't mine and I don't make money with writing about them. It's all for fun! Thank you guys; writing about you gave a new meaning to my life when I thought it was all over!_

**Pandora's Box**

"Starsk, I've been thinking."

"Don't, it'll only cause trouble."

Hutch ignored his partner's comment; Starsky had been cranky for some time now and Hutch couldn't find out the reason why.

"I want my place decorated and I want to expand my greenhouse."

"You want more plants?"

"Yes, I want some bigger plants and more room to grow a new variety maybe."

"Geez Hutch, why don't you just go back to Duluth and start a farm just like your grandfather?"

"You want me to go back to Minnesota?"

"As long as you're happy." Starsky mumbled under his breath.

"Do you really think I'd be happy there, Starsk? Why do you think I left, uh?"

Starsky shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe you wanted some more adventure."

"And you think I would leave here to go live on a farm?"

"Why not? You're a nature lover and there you'd have plenty of room to play with your plants."

"I don't wanna play with my plants; I just want a little more room."

"It's your life, do with it what you want with it."

"Starsky, what's wrong with you?"

Starsky didn't look at him. "Nothing's wrong and everything's wrong."

"Care to explain that to me partner?"

Now Starsky looked Hutch straight in the eyes, "Who says, I'm still your partner?"

_So that's it! You're scared you won't make it back to the streets._

"You'll always be my partner Starsk, no matter what happens. But I am sure we'll soon hit the streets again together, you'll see."

"You really believe that Hutch?"

"Yes, look how far you've come and where you came from. You're so much better and you'll convince the review board without blinking an eye."

"Six weeks to go." Starsky mumbled, still not convinced.

"Yeah, only six week before you'll get the green light."

"I wish I had your confidence."

_No you don't buddy, you really don't. I'm not that confident but you don't have to know that._

"You know what you need Starsk?"

"No but I'm sure you're gonna tell me."

"You need a diversion."

"I need a diversion." Starsky parroted, "Like what?"

"Like helping me move my stuff to storage."

"Storage, why?"

"Because," Hutch explained with exaggerated patience, "My entire place is going to be redecorated and my greenhouse expanded."

"Where will you stay while they're at it?"

"A hotel."

"You can stay here, that's much cheaper."

"Aw Starsk, do you really mean that?"

"Sure I mean it; why else would I say it."

"Don't you think…erm… we would be at each other's throats within a week?"

"Hutch, you've lived with me for months after the shooting, why would we be at each other's throats this time?"

_Because you don't need me to take care of you anymore._

"Okay then, but I'm gonna have to find a storage place before next week."

"Use my garage."

"Don't you need it yourself?"

"No, the Torino is parked outside and the stuff I keep in there is just junk."

"Thanks pal, I owe you."

Starsky grinned, "Yes and I intend to collect soon."

"I bet you do. I'll start packing tomorrow."

"I'll help you. It keeps my mind from other things."

Hutch paced his living room like a caged tiger. He hated to have his normal routine messed up but he had no choice _if_ he wanted the place fixed up and his greenhouse enlarged.

"I've lived here for two years now and never did anything to make it look better." He mumbled, "and I want that bloody stain from my floor finally."

"What are you doing? You're talking to yourself, not a good sign, buddy."

Starsky had entered the apartment without Hutch hearing it. "Do you have to sneak up on me?" he snapped.

Starsky gave him a pitiful look, "I didn't sneak up on you pal, you were having a conversation with yourself and, if I may say so, that's not healthy."

"Nothing unhealthy about that Starsk, you want coffee?"

"Sure. Do you need all your stuff out of here?"

They walked to the kitchen area and poured themselves a cup of coffee.

"No, but there are some closets and cupboards that have to be removed. They're too big to stay here."

"Where's the sugar?" Starsky asked looking around in the messed up kitchen.

"Think I packed it already."

"Why would you move the sugar out? That's not in the way is it?"

"It's in that box." Hutch pointed a little embarrassed, "I just threw in some pots and pans I guess."

"And the sugar. You know what you need Hutch? A plan, you need a plan."

"For what?"

"For not removing everything that crosses your path. We should make a list, you know, so that we know what has to go and what can stay."

"Good thinking Starsk. See, I told you you're gonna be fine."

"There's nothing wrong with my head, it's just the rest of me that's not functioning the way it should."

"Maybe not yet, but it will and then we're back on the streets again." _But I'm not so sure I want you back there pal, don't want to lose you for real._

Starsky rummaged through the contents of the box and found the sugar bowl. "Got it."

A contented smile on his face he added three spoons full of sugar to his coffee and stirred the sweet concoction vigorously.

"You're not gonna drink that are you?" Hutch asked disgusted.

"'Course I will. Why shouldn't I?"

"I got you finally quite healthy and now you're gonna ruin everything again."

"Shut up Hutch, I need the energy sugar gives me today."

"You're not gonna carry heavy stuff around Starsk. I found someone to help me with that."

"Then why do you want me here?"

_Because I won't let you out of my sight for an entire day._

"Well, you can help with clearing out the closets."

"And who's gonna help you remove this stuff?"

"A cousin of a friend of Hug."

"Should have guessed."

"He's got a van and maybe we can bring everything to your garage in one drive."

"Great." Starsky muttered under his breath. He finished his coffee, "Where do you want me to start boss?"

"Clear out the linen closet for me and throw the sheets and things in one box and my clothes in another."

"That will make it so much clearer don't you think?" Starsky asked with obvious sarcasm.

"As long as I know where it is I'll be fine."

They worked in silence for a while, Hutch making a list of things to do and Starsky throwing sheets and clothes in the respective boxes.

Within an hour the closet was empty and Starsky looked at the boxes and back to the closet.

"I think you need a new closet pal."

"What's wrong with it?" Hutch entered the bedroom, "Oh I see. It does look a bit creaky I guess."

"Creaky? If you touch it it'll go down."

"I'll put it on the 'to do' list."

"To do what?"

"Buy a new one."

"Can I demolish this one?"

"Sure."

With enthusiasm Starsky started to break down the old closet and in less than three minutes there was nothing left of it but a pile of splintered wood.

Starsky looked at the result of his hard work and grinned, "That's better, don't you think?"

Hutch wrinkled his nose. "You got to take it outside, it's in the way here."

"No heavy lifting remember? Let Hug's friend do it."

"You really are something else, do you know that Starsk? You rip this closet apart and you won't take it outside. What am I to do with you?"

"Gimme a coffee and a new closet to clear out."

Hutch laughed, happy to see the old Starsky come back little by little. "Okay, but you have to tell me why you like clearing out closets so much."

"I hate messed up closets," Starsky explained on their way to the kitchen, "My mom used to say, clean your closets once a year and you'll always keep things clear. I live by that and it does help to keep things clear."

"Keep things clear?" Hutch grinned.

"Yeah, you know, like never having to look for things. I always know where I keep my stuff."

"You're a neat freak Starsk."

"Yeah and you're a slob. Which reminds me, don't you dare to throw your stuff around when you stay with me. I like my place tidy."

Hutch handed him his coffee. "I'll try to live by your standards pal."

"Good boy." Starsky drank his coffee and scowled at Hutch, "No sugar, dumb blond, you forgot the sugar." He picked up the sugar bowl and poured sugar in his cup.

"That's better."

Hutch looked disgusted but said nothing. He looked at his to do list and sighed. "Shit, I hate this."

"Then why do it?"

"Look around Starsk, it's not fit to house a dog in anymore. I hate to do it but I've got no choice."

"Why don't you find yourself another place?"

"Because I like it here, I like the neighbourhood and it's near the beach but most of all I like the greenhouse. Never had a greenhouse before and where in this city will I ever find a place with a greenhouse?"

"You should keep chickens in it."

"Chickens?"

"Yeah chickens, you know they lay an egg every day and they'll give you the feeling of living on the land."

"You really are crazy Starsk. You can't keep chickens indoors, they need to be outside. They eat grass and worms. Moron."

"Oh well, it was just a thought. Hey, is that Hug's friend out there?"

"Shit, he's early. Hurry up Starsk, clear out the closets."

A tall black man came in and, looking around at the mess, said," You're not ready for the big move I see."

"Sorry," Hutch said blushing, "It was a lot more work than we thought."

"You ladies been drinking coffee and gossiping I see. That won't help to get the job done you know."

"Hey," Starsky yelled, "who are you calling a lady here?"

Through narrowed eyes the man looked at him and grinned. "Huggy told me you'd yell at me when I called you that. Just wanted to try it out."

"Why would you do that?"

"Drinking coffee all morning and talking about people is for the ladies, gents. That's why."

"You're a funny guy…I don't know your name."

The man grinned, "You can call me Digger."

"Digger? What kinda name is that?"

"It's short for Gold digger. And you don't wanna know where that name comes from."

"I don't?" That statement peeked Starsky's curiosity.

"Never mind Starsk, we got work to do." Hutch interfered, fearing a long, long discussion.

"Yes ladies, time to do some work."

Starsky scowled at Digger but said nothing. He went to the bedroom to clear out another closet.

Hutch looked at his list and threw it away. "Won't help me to write it down." He mumbled.

"Digger, you think we can get everything in your van?"

"Depends."

"On what?

"You want everything moved out of here?"

"No not everything but …well…I think it's best to empty the place before they start working here."

"Thought so." Digger nodded, "It'll take at least two rides I guess."

"Hutch!" Starsky called him from the bedroom. "This closet is gonna faint too."

"Throw it out Starsk!" he yelled back.

"This way it's gonna take just one ride." Digger grinned and picked up a chair, "Let's get this circus started."

They worked hard to get Hutch's things in the van and of course one ride wasn't enough but their enthusiasm didn't fade one bit. Digger turned out to be a funny guy and he made Hutch laugh more than once.

Starsky worked in silence, occasionally joining in with the others and enjoying doing something worthwhile. Even though he didn't do any of the heavy lifting he still felt good and useful.

It took them three rides to get Hutch's belongings at Starsky's and at five o'clock that afternoon they finally delivered the last boxes in Hutch's old car. Digger had gone home after the third load and left the two friends handling the last boxes.

Starsky sat down on the stairs of his garage and sighed. "That was much more than you thought I bet."

Hutch stretched his aching back. "I didn't know I had so many things. Thanks to you, I own a lot less now."

"Geez Hutch, I wouldn't be found dead near one of those old closets."

A painful expression flashed over Hutch's face. "I wouldn't want to find you dead near a brand new either."

"Sorry, wrong words."

With deliberate movements Hutch sat down beside Starsky. "I guess I'm still over-sensitive about that."

"That's all right Hutch, I understand, Hey, what's that? I've never seen that before." He reached for an old tin box but Hutch pulled him back. "It's just an old box." He said but Starsky heard the catch in his voice.

"I like old stuff, don't you know that?" and again he reached for the tin box. This time Hutch jumped up and grabbed the box from Starsky's hands. He was too rushed and he dropped the box on the floor where it fell open. They both looked at the items that were visible now and Starsky whispered, "That's my jacket."

Hutch fell on his knees and tried to get everything back into the box but Starsky stopped him. "How come my jacket is here? I thought you said you threw it away."

"Never heard of privacy Starsky?" Hutch growled.

"Not with us, no."

"Maybe it's time to do something about that then."

"You think so, uh?" Sarcasm clearly in his voice Starsky went on, almost accusingly, "Where was my privacy the last six months? Never heard you say anything about it then."

"You needed me to help you." Hutch's voice wasn't more than a whisper.

"Yeah, but when I needed you less, you still invaded m y place any time you chose to and I never said anything about it because I knew you needed that. And now you want _your_ privacy? It's _my_ jacket over there."

"Sorry, sorry Starsk," mumbled Hutch, feeling a heel for offending his best friend.

"I'm sorry too; I never thought we'd be fighting over _privacy_. But if you need your privacy I'll leave you alone with your precious box and _my_ jacket."

He turned and almost ran up the stairs, throwing the door closed, leaving a confused and guilt-ridden Hutch behind.

Hutch sat down on the floor, looking at the items he'd collected over the years. _You're such a coward Hutchinson, why don't you tell him you kept these things and why? He'll understand and you know it._

He listened to the angry footsteps above his head and the loud bang of a door slammed shut, the too loud noise of the TV and a yelled curse. _I have to go to him and talk this out. He's right, I've never even thought of his privacy the last months. But how could I? He needed me to do everything for him; there was no time for privacy._ He sighed, put his collection in the box and went upstairs.

For the first time since he'd met David Starsky he felt uneasy to face the man and shyly he opened the door that gave access to the kitchen. The sounds from the living room made it possible for him to walk unnoticed towards the couch and stood there watching his friend who lay stretched out with his arm over his eyes. An opened beer bottle stood on the floor but hadn't been emptied yet. Regret and fondness filled Hutch's heart and softly he asked, "Starsk?"

Starsky didn't answer; nothing showed that he even heard Hutch but Hutch didn't give up. "Starsk?" a little louder now and when there still was no answer he almost yelled, "Starsky!"

"What?" was the muffled answer.

"I need to talk to you."

"Why?"

_You're not going to make this easy for me are you buddy?_

"I was wrong, I want to apologize."

Starsky removed his arm and looked at him. "Your conscious giving you a hard time?"

"Yeah…no…yes but you have to understand something Starsk."

Starsky sat up and pointed at the space beside him on the couch. "Come and sit and tell me all about it."

Still feeling a strange shyness, Hutch sat down and put the box on the floor. Starsky looked at it but didn't say anything about it.

"You see Starsk," Hutch started, "I…erm…I have…erm…collected some things over the years."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Erm…I collected stones when I was a kid."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah and later I collected foreign coins."

"How did you get foreign coins?"

"My father travelled a lot, had conventions all over the world. He always saved the coins for me."

"Do you still have them?"

"I think so, they must be somewhere in my old room at home."

"Did you have a lot of coins? You managed to save a small fortune, you guess?"

Hutch laughed, feeling the tension subside now the conversation was all about trivial things.

"No, it wasn't that much. I never counted them, I was just fascinated by the idea they came from far away."

"Didn't you collect baseball cards like any other kid?"

"No, never did. I wasn't interested in baseball. Did you?"

"Sure, everybody in my neighbourhood did."

Starsky picked up his beer, took a sip and handed the bottle over to Hutch, who grabbed it and took a healthy swig. They drank their shared beer in silence, watching some game show they both didn't care about. Suddenly Starsky's foot touched the box and without taking his eyes from the TV screen he casually asked," You gonna tell me what's with that box or what?"

Hutch felt his face turn red but he knew he had to explain the contents of the tin box.

"Well, you see Starsk, since I started the Academy I have been collecting things that meant something to me. Or actually, that reminded me of a special occasion…oh I'm doing this all wrong."

"Let's see if I can help you. You mean to say that you started collecting things since the Academy and everything in that box has a special meaning to you. Am I right?"

Gratefully Hutch nodded, "Yes, that's what I mean. It's like you taking pictures of all kind of things and I keep certain things in a box as a memory."

"Right." Starsky finished the beer and went to get two new ones. When he came back, he handed Hutch a bottle and plopped down on the couch again.

"So, what have you been collecting from the Academy?"

"Mostly the obvious things, my grade card, oh and the first results of the target practice. I had to beg for it but I got it."

"Yes, that Biggs was a real ass."

"But he gave it anyway. I missed half of the attempts, but I still wanted it. As a memory of how it all began."

"Don't tell me you have your first date's panties in there too."

Hutch laughed, feeling the last bit of tension flow away. _Thanks partner._

"No, what do you think I am? Some pervert?"

Starsky grinned, "How would I know. You're the one that's keeping secrets in a box."

"True, but nothing like that Starsk. Here is a copy of my first arrest report. I remember that it took me a long time to write it, afraid to make a mistake. Things have changed uh?"

"I remember my first arrest and all the damn paperwork. They made me do it three times, said I shouldn't use my imagination and that the cold facts would do nicely."

"That hasn't changed very much."

"Ha, who wants the cold facts when a little imagination can make it so much more fun to read."

"I'm not gonna argue with you about that. Hey, look, your pet stone."

"You got my pet stone? Where did you find it? I thought I'd lost it."

"I went back the day after we'd busted the creeps and…."

"You went back to get my pet stone? And you never told me that!"

"It wasn't for you, but for me. I wanted it in my memory box, so I would never forget about it."

"But it's my stone and I want it back."

"You haven't mentioned it in ages, so don't tell me you missed your pet stone."

"That's not the point Blondie, the point is that it's mine and I want it back."

Hutch put the stone on the table. "Okay, if it means that much to you."

Starsky looked at the stone, picked it up and threw it in the box. "Keep it, it's just a stone."

_Not just a stone, it's a memory of times that won't come back._

"You got other things from our time at the Academy?"

"Yes, well not from the Academy but…" he rummaged through the contents of the box and waved a piece of paper in the air," the tab from the party we had after we graduated."

"Geez Hutch, you're nuts. Why would you keep that?"

"Hey, it was our graduation party; we started a new life after that."

"Let me see, I can't remember how much we drank that night."

"That's why I kept it. Can't remember it either."

"Oh man," Starsky said, impressed by the amount of beer they had consumed that night, "No wonder we can't remember it. We must have had the worst hangover ever."

"I guess we had but I can't remember it."

They both started giggling, unable to stop no matter how hard they tried, until they couldn't breathe anymore and Hutch begged, "Please, please stop it. I need to breathe. I'm dying here."

Starsky hiccupped and tried to control his laughter. "Me too." He said and wiped the tears from his eyes. Hutch didn't have the nerve to look at his friend but the moment Starsky opened his mouth to say something, they both started laughing again.

"We got to stop this." Hutch groaned, holding his aching stomach.

"Yeah," Starsky sniggered, "I'm hurting all over."

"You didn't pull anything, did you?" Hutch asked, suddenly very serious.

That ignited another roar of laughter from Starsky, who couldn't stop himself from falling of the couch. "Stop it Hutch, please stop it."

Hutch grinned sheepishly. "Old habits die hard partner."

"Beat them to death and bury them, please."

"I'll try."

Starsky sat up on the floor and grinned at Hutch. "God, this was fun."

Hutch chuckled, "It sure was Starsk. I wish I knew why we were laughing."

"Forget it; we'd start all over again."

"Yeah, we probably would. Shall I order pizza?"

"Okay, anchovies and no green stuff for me."

"Who are you telling that buddy?"

"Just wanted to be sure you order the right thing."

Hutch bit his lip to keep himself from laughing out loud again. He felt good and relaxed and wondered why he had been so uptight about telling Starsky about the tin box. _Because there are things in there he's not gonna like. And neither do you Kenny boy. The jacket is just one part of the story._

He ordered the pizza and grabbed two beers from the fridge before he returned to Starsky, who was still smiling on the couch.

"Show me another fun memory Hutch; I think I'm gonna like this."

Hutch felt his stomach tighten for a moment but then he smiled and sat down beside Starsky. He looked in his box and picked out another piece of paper. "This proves we weren't really stupid; we took a cab home."

"Good for us." Starsky mumbled, "Where is that pizza, I'm starving."

"It's on its way. Hey look, a picture of us and Colby."

"That piece of shit." Starsky growled, "Throw it away, I don't wanna see his face ever again."

"No can do partner, after all, he is a part of our past."

"Regrettably so."

"This you gonna like; chips from Las Vegas."

Starsky laughed, "That was fun in the casino, wasn't it? I just wonder why you wouldn't let me try the slot machine."

"With your luck, we'd have been broke before the day was over."

"You could at least have given me a change to prove you wrong."

"We weren't there for our pleasure Starsk."

"No and I'm sorry I acted like a jerk when you found out that Jack was dying."

"Forget it buddy, it's a long time ago."

"Yeah, but still I shouldn't have been jealous."

"There was nothing to be jealous of."

"I know that now, but then I thought…well…he was your college friend and I never went to college. I figured you needed someone more educated as a friend."

"Geez Starsk, why didn't you tell me that back then? I could have told you there and then that he never was a friend like you are. You're part of me and Jack was just a college friend, nothing more."

"I know but then I felt left out."

"You moron."

The doorbell rang and Hutch threw the photo back in the box. "Must be the pizza."

"Good," Starsky said, "do you have enough money to pay the guy?"

Hutch sighed and shook his head. "Today I'll pay but the next pizza is for you."

"Deal."

They ate the pizza and drank another beer. "Take it easy on the beer Starsk," Hutch warned, "You're still on medication."

"Yes dad."

Hutch put down his bottle and started searching in the box again. "Did you ever find out how Vicky and her little girl are doing?"

"I did and they're doing fine. The little lady had the operation and is doing much better now."

"Glad to hear that."

"What have you got there?"

"Promise you won't be angry."

"What else did you steal from me, Blondie?"

"Nothing special, just your anti-vampire device." He dangled the garlic in front of Starsky's face; he grabbed at it but missed. "Give me my garlic. I've been looking for that."

"Why, I thought you'd have enough of that nonsense after Voodoo Island."

"Don't talk about that." Starsky shuddered at the memory. "I never understood what really happened there."

"Me neither." Unconsciously Hutch rubbed his throat where Starsky's hands had tried to strangle him seventeen months ago.

Starsky saw the gesture and took Hutch's hand away from his throat. "There's nothing to see there anymore."

"I know," Hutch shrugged, "but sometimes I seem to feel your…" He blushed; embarrassed that he'd mentioned the painful experience for both of them.

Starsky looked at his hands, "I can't believe I tried to kill you."

"_You_ didn't try to kill me, it was the…" he shrugged, "I don't know what it was but it wasn't you."

Starsky stood up and turned on the light. "I hate talking about creepy things in the dark."

"Let's talk about something else then." Hutch's hand disappeared in the box again.

"Oops, almost forgot about this."

"What's that? A pack of cigarettes?

"Just one Starsk, it's the last one I never smoked."

"You kept one cigarette in your box?"

"Yeah, it was the last one and because you threatened to break all my fingers if I ever touched a cigarette again, I thought I'd keep it in my memory box."

Starsky looked intently at the rumpled pack, "I thought you used to smoke a different brand."

Hutch felt the heat creep up from his neck and couldn't help blushing fiercely. "Yeah well, it isn't the same pack." He confessed, "I uh, I smoked that last cigarette after all."

Starsky stared at him accusingly. "You started smoking again? When? And why don't I know that?"

"Because I quit already…again."

"You better have, "Starsky growled, "I need a beer. This sort of things makes me want to drink more."

"No beer Starsk, I'll make us coffee."

"No beer Starsk." Starsky mimicked, "he'll make us coffee. Yuck, I hate taking medicine that keeps me from drinking what I want and how much I want."

Hutch was already busy making coffee. "It won't be forever pal, be patient."

"I've been patient for a long time now; I don't wanna be patient anymore."

"You sound like a little kid, do you know that?"

"I _feel_ like a little kid."

"Here's your coffee." Hutch handed him a mug. "I put sugar in it."

"I hope it's enough."

"Stop pouting or I'll close the box and you'll never know what else is in there."

_Wish I could do that, but I can't go back now._

"You'd better tell me about the smoking, partner. I won't let you come near the Torino if I ever smell you've touched the stuff again."

"We could always take my car," Hutch grinned, trying to redirect Starsky's thoughts.

"You wish! That's not gonna happen pal, so you better not touch a cigarette ever again. I don't want my car smelling like an ashtray."

"I told you I've stopped the smoking, don't you ever listen to me?"

"Not when you're talking bullshit. So, why and when did you smoke the first last cigarette?"

"Erm…I don't wanna talk about it."

"But _I_ do, so tell me when you smoked that old, dried out cigarette."

"When you got shot." Hutch whispered.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Hutch's voice sounded strangled and desperately he tried to swallow down the lump, "I didn't know what I was doing I guess."

"You knew what you were doing," Starsky's voice was soft and understanding, "but you didn't care did you?"

Hutch shook his head, "No, I didn't care. I mean…if you were going to die…" he shrugged, " why would I care about a cigarette?"

"I think, it was a good reason to smoke the thing," Starsky said, "but I won't allow you to do it ever again."

Hutch chuckled, "What are you, my dad?"

"No, I'm your partner and you better not forget it."

"Never." Said Hutch solemnly.

"Now, when did you stop the second time and how hard was that?"

"The moment you woke up, I threw away the ones I still had but one. I put it in the box to remember."

"Good boy. Now, don't you have a happier memory in there? I need a good laugh again."

"I got some pictures."

"Don't tell me you have pictures from all your dates over the years."

"No, just one of Gillian and Abby. They were the only ones that really meant something to me."

"Aw yes, Gillian. I still feel guilty when I think of her." Starsky sighed, "I should never have interfered but I couldn't let her go on deceiving you."

"I know and although I was pissed off when you told me I never should have slugged you."

"Don't worry about that, I hardly felt it."

"You could have fooled me."

"I played Camille at high school, remember?"

"So you told me…hey that reminds me, wait a sec, I'll have to look for that. Ah, here it is." He waved a red and white chequered tablecloth in the air. "Do you remember this?"

"Hutch! Are you insane? Why the hell did you keep that tablecloth? I almost got killed that night!"

Hutch nodded enthusiastically, "But you didn't and that's why I kept it. I asked Theresa for it and she didn't mind. She said they had at least a hundred of those."

"You're really weird sometimes, do you know that Hutch? Why in the Devil's name would you want to be reminded of that night?"

Hutch looked at the tablecloth in his hand, folded it and put it back in the box. "Because I thought we were all gonna die and we didn't. Because I was able to save everybody. Because _you_ didn't die that night."

"Yeah, every time I see an Italian restaurant it doesn't remind me of my grandmother anymore, but of _that_ night."

Hutch nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. He rummaged through the contents of the box again and sniggered when he pulled out the next item.

Starsky's mouth fell open when he saw what Hutch was showing him. His face coloured the same colour as the piece of clothing in Hutch's hand.

"That's my long johns," he stuttered, embarrassed by the sight of the underwear. Hutch started laughing until he had tears in his eyes.

"Oh buddy, you should have seen your face." He hiccupped, "that was priceless."

"Yeah? I'm glad you're having such a good time with _my_ underwear, pal. Why did you keep that? And when did you snatch that from my place?"

"I didn't _snatch_ it from anywhere. You said you wouldn't wear it anymore after we came back from our vacation in Dobey's cabin."

"Oh yeah, that's right," Starsky remembered, "It made me think of Satanic cults and rattlesnakes."

"That's what you said."

"I threw it away…hey, you've been going through my garbage?"

"Erm…it was on top of your garbage, just had to pick it up."

"Hutch, I hate to say this to you, but you really have scary ideas. If anyone would ever find out that you're collecting my underwear, it'll be Cabrillo State for you my friend. It's not some sort of fetish, is it?"

The shocked look on Hutch's face made Starsky giggle. "Have you ever thought how this must look to a stranger? You're collecting my _underwear_; they probably would think we're gay and that you got the hots for me."

Hutch shrugged a little embarrassed, "Most people think we're a couple already." He shrugged again, "What do I care."

"That's selfish Hutch, _you_ may not care but I got an image to uphold."

"And what would that image be?"

"I'm a hundred percent ladies man." There was undoubtedly a certain pride in his voice, "And for the record, so are you."

"Okay, okay, you're right. I'd better get rid of it then." He threw the long johns under the couch and took a picture from the box. "Look, it's you and me on top of the Torino."

"Wasn't that picture taken when we were having that barbecue at Dobey's?"

"Yep," Hutch nodded, "right before we got drunk as a skunk and Dobey had to call us a cab."

"He put us on traffic duty for a week because we had scared Rosie."

"Yeah, the poor girl has had nightmare over your behaviour for months."

"My behaviour? You were the one dancing on the table."

"Me? I can't even dance."

"That we all could see and that's why poor Rosie is still having nightmares."

"You were too drunk to notice that, pal of mine, so don't put the blame on me."

"Well, maybe my throwing up in Dobey's rose garden didn't make things better uh?

"I don't think so."

"Starsky leaned his head against the couch. "You really kept some memories there Hutch. You think it's time for the grand finale now?"

"It never is," Hutch said, "but if you want to, I'll tell you about your jacket."

"I don't know if I _want_ to but I sure as hell _need_ to know why you kept my jacket and never told me about it."

Hutch wiped his face, trying to find the words to start his story. "You know Starsk, that day you were shot," his voice wavered and cold sweat beaded his forehead, "I was so sure you'd never survive and when they gave me your things at the hospital, I-I-I thought that was all I had left of you."

Starsky scooted closer to him and swung his arm around his friend's quivering shoulders. "That must have been hell for you, babe." He said softly.

Hutch nodded, "It was and all the time you were in a coma, I kept your jacket close to me; it somehow made me feel closer to you." He shrugged, "Stupid uh?"

"No, not stupid at all." Starsky's thoughts went back to the time Hutch was dying from the plague and how helpless and lonely he'd felt. "I know exactly what you mean."

"The moment you woke up, " Hutch went on, "I quit smoking, but couldn't throw away the jacket. So I put it in the box with the other things."

"So that once we're old and gray we can think back at the exiting years on the force and have the things to prove it."

"I don't think I ever want to think back to _that_ time."

Starsky frowned. "Then why didn't you throw it away?"

"That jacket is a part of you, or better, that's how I see it. It would be like throwing you away."

"Aaww Hutch, you're such a softie. Come here, you big lug and convince yourself that I'm still here, alive and kicking."

He pulled Hutch closer and leaned his head on his friend's shoulder. "We've been through some rough times, haven't we?"

"You could say that Starsk."

Hutch leaned his cheek on the curly head on his shoulder. "You think I'm morbid?"

"Nah, you're not morbid; you're just struggling to hang on, that's all."

"So keeping your jacket and the bullets…"

Starsky sat right up, leaving Hutch's shoulder abruptly. "What did you just say? You kept the bullets?"

"Well…yeah…I…I… "

"Why? Why would you keep the bullets that nearly killed me?"

"I…I…wanted to…erm…" he shook his head, "I just wanted the damn things that killed you because…I thought…they'd been inside of you, they'd touched so…so…intimately…I couldn't throw them away. I'm sick uh?"

Starsky stared at him in silence for several minutes. Hutch didn't dare to look at him; suddenly not understanding anymore why he'd kept the bullets. _You're really sick Hutchinson, keeping bullets that nearly killed your best friend. And don't try to tell him or yourself that bullshit about…_

He startled when he felt Starsky's hand brush through his hair. "You're not sick Hutch, nor morbid. You were hurting and scared and maybe you needed the bullets and the jacket to tell yourself why you were hunting Gunther down without any back up. Maybe the jacket and the bullets _were_ your back-up then."

Hutch shook his head again, still not looking up but relishing in their closeness he thought he'd never experience again.

"I really thought I'd lost you Starsk and nothing mattered to me anymore. I couldn't have cared less if I'd died that same day."

"You shouldn't underestimate me Hutch, I was always with you, even when I was in a coma. You were the only one I thought of and although everybody on the other side kept calling to cross the bridge, I knew I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave you behind."

A silent sob escaped Hutch and a lonely tear slid down his cheek. "When Dobey called me and said I'd better come to the hospital, I knew you were dead. I can't forget that feeling of loss and loneliness."

"Hey Hutch, look at me. I'm not dead, you saved me, and you backed me up when I was fighting to come back to you. Without you I would never have made it. Do you understand that, babe? You saved my life."

"But I let them shoot you."

"Oh…was that _you_ pushing me towards that fake police car? I wondered about that."

"Huh?"

"Do you ever listen to yourself Hutch? Do you actually hear what you're saying?"

Confused pale blue eyes looked at Starsky. "What do you mean?"

Starsky sighed. "You're really blond aren't you? A real dumb blond."

A tiny smile appeared on Hutch's face but it disappeared immediately again. "I guess I am."

"Well, let me tell you something here partner. _You_ had nothing to do with the shooting. It was _not_ your fault. You did _not_ let me down. It was just one of those things that happen. You _were_ covering my back but _I_ chose to turn it the wrong way. Now please, would you stop doing this to yourself?"

He saw something change in Hutch's eyes and he decided to confess the secret he had sworn never to tell Hutch. "You remember when you were dying of the Plague?"

"What has that got to do with it?"

"I'll tell you buddy. I felt guilty that you were sick and I wasn't. It didn't seem fair to me that you had to go through the agony of that illness and I didn't."

"But that wasn't your fault Starsk, it was dumb luck I got it."

"Maybe, but it didn't seem fair to me then and it still doesn't. I should have been sick too, so we would have both died if they hadn't found an antidote."

"But Starsk, you found Calander so they could make the antidote."

Starsky looked at Hutch. "I know that Hutch and I know that in a way I saved your life. I wish you would understand that nothing was your fault when they shot me. It wasn't my fault you got sick and I didn't and it wasn't your fault I got shot and you didn't. It was fate and you can't fight fate." He waited a moment then he stood up and opened a drawer. "You think you're the only one who collects memories, don't you? Well, I got news for you partner, I do too. Look, it's the hospital bracelet you wore and I took it when you threw it away."

Hutch stared at the plastic bracelet, "Why did you do that?"

Starsky put the bracelet back in the drawer and returned to sit next to Hutch again. He turned his head and looked Hutch straight in the eyes. "I couldn't photograph this disease or you being so sick so I looked for another way to remember this. Or better, to remember that we made it again. This seemed a good choice then."

_God, I don't deserve a friend like you Starsk._

"Yes you do Hutch and I deserve a friend like you." Starsky read his mind, "I think we deserve each other and that's why we are who we are, two halves of a whole. It was our destiny to meet."

Hutch looked at his friend, gratitude and relieve in his eyes. "You sure have a way with words Starsk. Maybe you're right, maybe this all had to happen for a reason. I wish I knew what the reason was."

"I don't, I'd like that to stay fate's secret."

"Maybe that's for the best huh?"

"I'd like to think so yes. Now, get me a beer; I think I deserve that."

"No beer, you're…"

"Still on medication I know, but after all this I feel like I really deserve a beer."

Hutch sighed and got up from the couch. "Okay, one beer but that's it for today."

"Yes mom, thank you mom."

"Starsky?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Sure thing mom."

Hutch returned from the kitchen with two opened beers in his hands. He handed one to Starsky who took a healthy swig. "That's what a man needs after a difficult day."

He noticed Hutch still standing with the tin box, a pensive look on his face. "What are you thinking of partner? Is there anything in your memory box I haven't seen?"

Hutch looked at him and smiled. "There is one thing I'd like you to see."

"More secrets huh? High time to reveal the last one."

Hutch grinned; looking more relaxed than he had in months. He sat down on the couch and searched in the box. "Close your eyes Starsk."

"Why, is it a real secret then?"

"Just do as I say for once."

"Okay, okay, hold your horses."

Starsky closed his eyes and waited. He felt something stick to his face and his eyes snapped open. He brought his hand to his face and started laughing when he saw what Hutch had done. "You idiot," he chuckled, "that's Skyler's moustache. You kept that ridiculous moustache."

Hutch grinned, "Hey, it was the best disguise I've ever seen."

"I think it fitted Bancroft's face better, don't you think?"

"Yeah, you could be right about that."

"Hutch, when are you gonna shave that moustache of yours?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I ask you to."

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because I hate the thing."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I never liked it but now I hate it."

"Well…if you put it like that…I'll shave it tomorrow."

"You will? You really will do that for me?"

"You should know by now Starsk, that I'll do anything for you. Besides, I'm tired of it too."

"Thanks partner, it will be like a new start."

Hutch nodded and drank his beer.

"Hutch?"

"What is it buddy?"

"Do you think I'm ready to go back?"

"Yes, I think you are."

"Are _you_ ready for me to go back?"

Hutch studied his beer bottle and shrugged. "I don't know."

"They won't let me go back to the streets for the first months I guess. Plenty of time for you to get used to it."

"I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that."

"Yes you will." Starsky said with so much conviction that Hutch felt an inner peace he hadn't felt for a long, long time. "Maybe I will," he said, "but give me some time to get used to it again."

"All the time you need pal, but the day they let me hit the streets again you'd better be ready."

Hutch smiled and slung his arm around his partner's shoulder. "The day they let you do that I will be ready, partner."


End file.
